


the most comfortable fall

by puchuupoet



Series: with story and song [1]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Sneaking, bribery fic, pizza dog - Freeform, very mild, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 20:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20534210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puchuupoet/pseuds/puchuupoet
Summary: It had been a long while since Bucky had worked in conditions like these.It was dark, which wasn’t a negative, but the need to be silent was incredibly high. Surrounded by people behind various doors and walls, it would not be good if he were to be caught like this.Especially like this.





	the most comfortable fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morganoconner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/gifts).

It had been a long while since Bucky had worked in conditions like these. 

It was dark, which wasn’t a negative, but the need to be silent was incredibly high. Surrounded by people behind various doors and walls, it would not be good if he were to be caught like this. 

Especially like this. 

He bites back a sigh and shifts his weight carefully. The backpack’s balanced, but there’s an additional weight on one side, the bag wedged in the crook of his elbow. It’s precarious, but he needs his hands free to pick at the lock. 

With a soft sound, the lock gives way, and Bucky hesitates before opening the door. It’s late after a hard work week, so the targets should be in the bedroom. Except. 

Lucky’s tail thumps against the floor but that’s the only movement in response to Bucky’s entry. Clint’s on the floor next to him, arm slung over the furry lump, shirtless but still in his Avenging pants. His snoring mingles sweetly with Lucky’s whining, and that’s when Bucky realizes he’s fucked. 

Locking the door behind him, Bucky heads to the kitchen to drop off the bags. Lucky gets louder when the pepperoni smell hits him, and manages to wriggle free from Clint’s grasp. 

“Hey Pizza Pizza,” Bucky whispers, not seeing Clint’s aids anywhere. “I gotcha some things.”

Lucky whines as Bucky digs through the paper bag, finally emerging with a plush stuffed pizza slice. Feeling slightly foolish, Bucky shows the dog the sausage treat before unwrapping it and wedging it into the pizza’s treat hole. 

“Here ya go,” Bucky tosses it to Lucky, who immediately starts mouthing it, causing a flurry of indigent squeaks to fill the room. “You can have dinner after you wake him up.”

Challenge accepted, Lucky prances back to the body sprawled in the middle of the floor. With a satisfied groan he takes up his place by Clint’s side, shredding the pizza with glee. 

Bucky’s moved on to putting the people food away when a loud noise breaks through Lucky’s fun.

“The fuck did you do to my dog, Barnes?”

“Made ‘im happy,” and Bucky grins despite the snarl in Clint’s voice. He settles down next to Clint, stretching out on his other side. “Hoping I can do the same for you, doll.”

“I’m not as easy as that other fellow.” Clint rolls over to face Bucky, and while his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, Bucky can feel the warmth radiating from it. He presses a kiss to Clint’s forehead, avoiding the healing cut from earlier in the week. 

“Wouldn’t dream of assuming that, y’know,” with a kiss to Clint’s nose, surprisingly not broken this time around. 

“What’d you get him anyways?” Clint inches closer to Bucky, till knees are knocking together and Bucky can feel a hand gripping at his shirt. 

“Everything.” Bucky kisses him then, soft and oh so restrained. They had different missions, blackout communications for a goddamn week and Bucky wants to inhale him, grip him tight and never let go, which surprised him the first time the feeling hit. He’s lucky Clint felt similarly, but he’s pretty sure they both think the other could do better. He grasps at Clint’s hip, grounding himself. 

“Why everything?” Clint’s breathless, a soft whimper escaping when Bucky nips at his lower lip. 

“You’re such a bad dog dad. It’s International Dog Day, come on.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I have a bag full of squeaky toys and a couple bottles of whisky to go with that pizza on the counter.”

“Next time, lead with the whisky when you’re passing out noise makers.”


End file.
